


Hot Chocolate

by possiblecontent



Series: 12 Days of Christmas with The Avengers (Gus) [1]
Category: Avengers (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff, Christmas, First Kiss, First Time, Holidays, Hot Chocolate, M/M, Snow, SteveTony, Stony - Freeform, Superhusbands, This is a, fic guys, happy holidays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-16 00:04:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16943220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/possiblecontent/pseuds/possiblecontent
Summary: At Tony’s word, the Captain stopped himself mid-turn, and looked back at him. His eyes were closed off, a blank expression clouding Tony from reading his emotions. He fiddled with the cup before he got up and cleared his throat, plastering a smirk.“Let me come with you. I wanna get a refill on this.”“Oh.. I, uh… I made that… actually…” Rogers blushed, and they began to walk side by side back to the dirt road that led to the compound, which flickered in the distance with the building lights.“Really? It’s good, Cap.”“It’s just hot chocolate.”“Hot Chocolate America. No. Hot American Chocolate.”“Terrible.”“That’s what makes me so amazing, Rogers.”A beat.“I love you, Tony.”





	Hot Chocolate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AngelEyesCarter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelEyesCarter/gifts).



With the snow settling on the damp bench, and a crisp chill encasing the winter air, sharp and stinging, Stark felt his snow boots slide around on top of the slick, wet ice that had formed on the concrete under his shoes. As the sun drew to the horizon, the moon lifted into the sky, casting it’s winter spell across the forest just outside the compound.

He stared at his shoes, slouched and tired, thick scarf and coats covering his skin, which had gotten lighter due to the season. He ran equations through his head without much thought, lost in the quiet, dull numbness that settled around him.

Christmas was always the worst time of year. The bitter cold and the smell of pine and gingerbread reminded him of the dread the new year always brought him; another Christmas without his parents. 

Yes, Tony was nearing 45, and yes, a lot of the times when he thought about his mother it was with a bitter sweet fondness. Nothing tainted, nothing wrong, just a reflection of the past. 

But these kinds of days brought a seasonal depression, a dreading feeling that made him want to turn his skin inside out, to hide inside his own stomach and hold his organs together to keep them from hurling out of his mouth, and revealing the bruises that had been left inside, on his heart, and the feelings he gets when he sees snow on a dark concrete with nothing but trees surrounding the vast, empty, unimaginable end to the lost road his parents had disappeared on.

He was fine, really, but the winter reminded him of a time where booze was the only thing he could find to bring back the missing warmth inside his soul, to refill his organs with nothing but poison pretending to cure him of the missing pieces in his life. 

He was fine, most of the time. It was nothing but psychology, really. You can train a dog to expect a treat when he hears a certain sound, you can train the human mind to associate an environment with unfortunate feelings. 

 

It couldn't be helped. It was just a reaction.

 

Tony was so lost in thought, it hadn’t occurred to him that the very recently faint, crunching of snow under feet, had drawn nearer, grown louder, and then abruptly stopped. He wasn’t caught off guard when he saw a figure sit down next to him on the bench, though he didn’t bother to turn his attention to them. They could be hostile for all Tony knew, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He was compromised by his own mind. Natasha wouldn’t be too proud of that. 

The figure, who was large and bulky, either Thor or Steve, leaned over and placed his own elbows on his knees, sipping a drink from a thick, paper cup. The sound, closer and slightly more irritating than the crunch under shoes, finally pulled Tony’s eyes from the silhouette of trees hitting the starry, blue black sky. 

 

“You good, Stark?”

 

Steve, of course. Probably here to bother him about his updates on his suit, or here to make him come back inside and enjoy the SHIELD festivities. No matter how much Clint begged him to, the billionaire refused to participate in their White Elephant (as much as he would have enjoyed the attention over his overpriced gift). 

 

“Have I ever not been?” Stark asked, a fake glitter in his eyes as he turned his head a little bit to give the Captain a stellar smirk. The man just raised an eyebrow at him but kept his gaze forward, taking another sip of whatever steaming drink he had in his cup. Several moments of silence rippled through them between the lightly falling snow, which dusted Steve’s blonde hair and dark, leather jacket. 

“Want a sip?” Rogers asked, breaking the momentary silence, as he held the cup out, looking to him. “It’s not caffeinated, so I know its not worth your time, but…” He didn't finish, and just stared at Tony expectantly, hand extended towards the man beside him. Stark stared at it for a beat, then, slipping his shaking, cold fingers around the cup, he spoke up. “Poisoned?” He asked, bringing the lid to his lips before Steve could respond.

He let the warm, steaming air bring his cheeks back to life, before he took a small, tiny sip of the liquid. The hot chocolate slurred thickly into his mouth and down his throat, and then spread through every piece of his insides, making his heart rate pick up just a bit at the sudden warmth, and distracting his fingers and stomach from the previous, sick feeling he had gotten from the atmosphere.

“That would be too easy.” Steve deadpanned, though a subtle flicker of humor could be heard in his voice that only the close Avengers would be able to identify. 

“I don't take you for the theatrical type.” Stark responded cooly and handed it back over to Rogers. He waved his hand, shaking his head and allowing Tony to keep the warm cup in his brittle fingers. 

“No, I just respect you too much. I’d want your death to be slow so I could monologue about your arrogant attitude, and then I’d make you feel bad for me about not having enough personality.”

“You have plenty of personality, Cap.”

“It’s fake.” Steve didn't miss a beat and looked back out into the snow. 

Another silence fell on top of them. While staring down into the hot chocolate, Tony swirled the liquid lazily, feeling his mindset slowly draw back to the previous thoughts that had slugged through his head, the feeling teasing to daunt its way back into his stomach; however, Steve’s smooth voice broke the silence once more, stopping the dread abruptly. 

 

“You know you have friends, Tony. You don’t have to sit out here all by yourself.” 

 

There it was. The pity. 

 

Tony visibly tensed and then let out a huff. The Captain felt a flicker of anger begin to swell in the pit of his stomach, but he cooled it back down as quickly as it formed. The look on Stark’s face was an expression he rarely ever saw.

 

Defeat. 

 

Steve felt a curl of sympathy roll through him, and he felt a little awkward, his hands feeling all too thick and big in the pockets of his coat. He slowly pulled them out, and Tony turned his head just a little. Not a flinch, but just a reaction to Steve’s movements.

Rogers placed a soft hand on Stark’s back, cradling the space between his shoulder blades. 

“What are you doing?” Tony mumbled, bringing the hot chocolate back to his lips, taking another sip of it. 

“What would you like me to be doing?” Steve asked. 

 

In any other situation, Tony would’ve smirked and waggled his eyebrows and maybe even flirted, and Steve would have turned a comical soft pink. But Stark didn’t have it in him, and he just continued to take a slow sip of the chocolate. 

After pulling the cup from his lips, he smacked them and then looked up into the sky. He could feel the Captain’s gaze sear into his cheek, and he wasn’t sure it stung from the heat of his eyes or from the sting of the cold. 

 

“I don't like Christmas.” Tony began. Steve kept his eyes on him, remaining silent. He was allowing Tony to speak, to take up space for once. “Gingerbread sucks, and so does the snow. And every blanket I’ve ever been offered to keep warm with was itchy and unsatisfying. Presents were never fun, mostly because I never got any, and the ones that I did meant nothing to me. I’ve spent nearly every Christmas by myself since I was twenty three, and I’ve honestly had better ones by myself than I ever did with-” 

 

He stopped speaking and chuckled weakly, bringing the hot chocolate back to his mouth. It was the final sip. He stared down into the empty cup, and licked his lips. “Empty.” He said simply. He moved to get up, but Steve’s firm grip just pulled him back down onto the bench. 

Stark huffed, clenching his jaw and glancing at Rogers for a moment before adamantly avoiding his gaze, training his eyes to a spot in the snow and keeping them there. He closed himself off, eyes hard and firm to keep Steve from looking through him.  

Another silence swept over them, Stark’s heart pounding in his throat. Anxiety stirred in his stomach, his fingers, as he waited for Rogers to roll his eyes and call him dramatic and selfish.

It didnt happen.

 

“You have a family now, Tony.” He said softly. Tony breathed out shakily and looked at him, his expression changing fluidly in just the blink of an eye. He looked at him, brown eyes wide with despair and loneliness, and also surprise. 

 

Steve… considered Tony… family?

 

“You have the Avengers. You have me.” He said gently and smiled, looking away as he began to reflect on his own past. “My Christmas’ were always poor, lonely. Just my ma and I.” His expression changed into something that reflected both a bitter sweetness, but also remorse. “I didn't have a big family either. I had Bucky, but at the end of the day we went home to different houses, and different people.” He swallowed thickly.

“I know how it feels to be alone on Christmas, Tony. The year I woke up…” He shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat.

 

“We’re family.” He ended, a little lamely. “And we’re all we’ve got, so…” He trailed off, swallowed, and then, with a new sense of confidence, spoke just as firmly as he had earlier. “Family are the people you love the most, and sometimes it doesn't have to be the people who raised you. You don’t have to spend christmas by yourself just because you don’t think you deserve to, or that… or that you’re afraid you’re betraying someone else.” He smiled weakly and glanced away, the same expression falling onto his face when he spoke of his mother just moments ago. “I just wish I had realized those facts sooner.” He said somberly.

Tony looked at him, brown eyes swimming with curiosity and sympathy. After several tense, long seconds passed by, Steve eventually stood and cleared his throat.

“You probably have your reasons, and I have mine, so I’ll leave you be. Good evening-”

“Steve-”

 

At Tony’s word, the Captain stopped himself mid-turn, and looked back at him. His eyes were closed off, a blank expression clouding Tony from reading his emotions. He fiddled with the cup before he got up and cleared his throat, plastering a smirk.

“Let me come with you. I wanna get a refill on this.”

 

“Oh.. I, uh… I made that… actually…” Rogers blushed, and they began to walk side by side back to the dirt road that led to the compound, which flickered in the distance with the building lights. 

 

“Really? It’s good, Cap.”

“It’s just hot chocolate.”

“Hot Chocolate America. No. Hot American Chocolate.”

“Terrible.”

“That’s what makes me so amazing, Rogers.”

 

A beat.

 

“I love you, Tony.”

 

Stark stopped abruptly, choking just slightly. He looked at Rogers in shock, his face deepening in color. Hopefully he could blame it on the weather if Steve could see it under the dark evening light.

The Captain, however, didn’t mind Tony’s expression, nor did he fluster. His comment was deliberate, not a mistake. 

He had meant to say it.

 

“I hope you’re not expecting me to start reciting a HallMark script-”

 

“Stark…”

 

“What?”

 

Tony looked at him, gaze flickering across Steve’s face wildly. He smiled softly, turning back to continue walking. Once he started speaking, it was obvious he was expecting Tony to follow him still. After a pause, Tony caught up.

“I just wanted to let you know. In case you didn’t think I………. The Avengers, too. They love you as well, I mean.” Here, it was when a nervous flicker of emotion crossed his face, but he quickly covered it up.

 

Tony swallowed, wetting his lips.

 

“I love you too, Steve.” He said, probably a bit too gently. He turned his head forward, the Compound completely coming into view and lighting the world around them. In the windows, SHIELD agents were ecstatic, either dancing or holding eggnog and talking with another. Everyone inside the building, at least from Steve and Tony’s view, looked happy to be there. The Compound on the inside had been decorated with Christmas accessories, and several of the employees had santa hats on. Tony absently wondered if he could get a picture of Fury in one of those that evening.

 

“I mean, that’s what the holidays are for, right?” Stark asked as they got closer.

 

“Spending time with the ones you love.” 

 

The both stopped just short of entering the building, turning to look at one another. 

Tony was briefly reminded of that feeling he had felt just minutes earlier, the dreading, intoxicating feeling, that soaked him in depression and bitter frost. It had made him feel lonely, sad, and unequivocally despaired.

But now, looking at Steve, Tony could only remember how warm that hot chocolate felt slugging through his system, bringing him out of his daze and from his remorseful feelings. 

 

He could see Steve’s gaze flicker to his mouth briefly, and Tony was beginning to become aware of how long they were gazing into each other’s eyes. 

Possibly a little more than usual, and definitely a little more than heterosexually acceptable. There was a fine line between those two.

 

A silent exchange occurred between them as Steve stood there, staring into Tony’s eyes intently. It was clear he was waiting for Tony to break the contact, or somehow indicate his permission.

And so, with the responsibility on his shoulders and also the terrifying idea that he may be reading this whole situation wrong, Tony swallowed thickly, glanced away a couple times, before hesitantly shuffling just a tad bit closer to Steve, his heart beginning to pound wildly. Steve, at seeing his nervous movements, didn’t hesitate to pull Tony closer, taking the reins and laying a soft first kiss on his mouth.

 

It was sudden, and, cliche, Steve tasted like hot chocolate. Tony supposed he did too, though, and he grabbed Steve’s collar to tug him just a little closer, getting onto his tippy toes to taste just a little bit more of the warmth.

 

Perhaps by memorizing the taste in Steve’s mouth, and the warm glow that began to manifest in his stomach, eviscerating all the dread that reminded him of any lonely Christmas he had ever had, Tony could try to start associating better feelings with the holidays instead.

Because Tony had Steve, and Steve had Tony, and they both had a family. 

 

And that was just enough. 


End file.
